


Peeping Jaime

by Kittles123



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 18:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15588096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittles123/pseuds/Kittles123
Summary: Jaime and Bronn are spared an immediate execution by dragon fire and sent to shoot down the undead Viserion.UST for now.





	Peeping Jaime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roqueamadi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roqueamadi/gifts), [Laura1013](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura1013/gifts).



> This is unbeta'd for now. I just wanted to post it up and run away screaming, so that's what I'm doing haha. PLEASE if anyone (nudge roqueamadi and Laura1013) wants to write a chapter, I would love that :D

**Peeping Jaime**

 

It had been six months since Jaime had stolen some of Bronn’s clothes, put them on, and left King’s Landing, and Bronn was still giving him shit about it.

“Now the way I see it, you owe me a new set of clothes, plus interest,” Bronn said.  “I could use a new sword belt. Nothing flashy. And maybe some doe skin gloves.”

“I’ll get right on that, just as soon as we take down that undead dragon.  This is  _ your _ fault, by the way.  Why do you have to be such a good shot?”

Bronn shrugged.  “I did my part. You should have killed the little dragon bitch while she was grounded.”

Jaime turned in his saddle to face him.  “You were the one who came in and knocked me out of my saddle!”

“Aye, darling, that was me.  If you didn’t notice, you were about to go up in flames, so let’s not forget that I also saved your life.  Starting to regret it though,” Bronn said, then he kicked his horse into a trot and moved up the line of soldiers.

Jaime and Bronn had been charged with destroying the undead dragon, and they were to be pardoned for their alleged crimes if successful.  “And what of her crimes,” Jaime had growled between clenched teeth when he’d heard the offer. Brienne had talked sense into him, though, if what he was doing now could be called sensible.  He knew that Daenerys figured this would be a suicide mission, an easy was to get rid of him without having to execute him herself. 

So now he and Bronn were leading a small contingent of soldiers from Winterfell east  to the burned out remains of the Dreadfort. They had two scorpions and twenty dragonglass-tipped bolts to work with.  After pouring over maps of the North, the only area in Westeros that Jaime was relatively unfamiliar with, he’d decided that the cliffs overlooking the White Knife would be the best place to watch and wait for a shot at the undead dragon.

The snow fell in bursts, dumping heavy blankets on top of them every few hours or so.  Jaime was colder than he’d ever been in his life, and he knew his men were feeling it too.  They were all southerners, just like him, and unused to the cold. The only man here who seemed to be unaffected by the climate was Bronn.  He was adaptable, as Bronn himself had felt the need to point out, not a soft southern boy who hadn’t seen snow in decades.

“Ser Reginald,” Jaime called out to one of his captains.  Ser Reginald was a barrel chested man, older than Jaime, but age hadn’t diminished his physical stature.  He had a thick, white beard and the shoulders of an aurochs. Reginald slowed his horse and waited for Jaime so he could fall in beside him.

“We’re a few miles from the Shepherd’s Inn.  We’ll stay there tonight,” Jaime said. Bronn knew the place.  It was large enough to hold all their soldiers and was nestled at the foot of the Sheepshead Hills.

“Thank you, Ser Jaime.  It will boost morale, to be sure,” Reginald replied.  “I will let the men know.”

Jaime nodded and then settled back into his saddle.  Hot food and a soft bed were less than an hour’s ride away.

 

The Shepherd’s Inn was as big as Bronn had said.  It stood three stories tall, each level made of a different building material, showing that it had been added to slowly over the years.  The bottom level was dark grey stone, the same stone that jutted out of the snow that covered the foothills nearby. Then came another stone, tan and white, that resembled some of the building’s of King’s Landing.  The final level was pine. It was an interesting building to say the least.

After paying the innkeep and giving Ser Reginald his orders on the supervision of the men and horses, Jaime climbed the stairs to the second floor and put his things down in the room he’d secured for himself and Bronn.  Bronn’s worn travel bag already sat on one of the small twin beds in the room, so Jaime tossed his on the other and headed back down to the common room.

A whole pig roasted over a blazing hot cookfire, filling the inn with a delicious aroma.  Most of his men had filled their tankards already and were clustered around the main hearth drinking and eating from baskets filled with bread and a variety of jams.  Bronn waved him down to sit at the bar. He was already flirting with one of the barmaids. Bronn’s eyes twinkled as he gave her his roguish smile, and she smiled coyly back as she filled his tankard.  She was plain of face and had a mop of messy brown hair tied back at the nape of her neck. Ample breasts, which were seemingly a requirement of being a barmaid, nearly spilled out onto the bartop as she leaned over to fill a tankard for Jaime.

“Here you are, m’lord,” she said.  “Please, let me know if there’s anything else you need.”  She smiled, and he noticed she had lovely blue eyes. They reminded him of Brienne’s eyes.  Jaime’d thought when he’d ridden north, he would finally be able to fight at Brienne’s side, but he’d only seen her in passing at Winterfell.  She’d been headed to Torrhen’s Square to fortify it and secure the waterway to the Saltspear as an alternate evacuation route. Their conversations had been short and he hadn’t gotten any time alone with her.

“There’s a nice girl for you,” Bronn said as he scooted his barstool closer to him.  “It would do you good.”

Jaime sighed and took a drink.  Bronn was convinced that all Jaime needed to do was fuck someone and everything would be right as rain.

“I know you’re all hung up on her,” Bronn continued.  “Maybe you’ll see her again, but until then your a single man,” he said and slapped Jaime’s knee.  Jaime had to smile. For a sellsword who supposedly only did things for money, Bronn had done a lot for him.

“Thanks,” Jaime said, then paused as he summoned up the willpower to say more.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

Bronn patted his knee one more time then leaned back on his barstool.  “Aye, me too.”

 

Ser Reginald agreed to take command for the evening, so Jaime was able to get some much needed rest.  He probably could have done with a few less tankards of beer, but it was too late now. He was laughing at some joke one of the younger soldiers had just told him and Bronn was sitting at the table across from him.  The barmaid from earlier was perched on his knee. Once the soldier moved on to refill his mug, Jaime found himself staring at the ridiculous display going on across from him. The woman’s hair was down now, messy curls draped around her shoulders and her apron was off.  Bronn’s hand was slowly gliding up her bare thigh, and she swatted it away when he’d hiked her skirt up just a bit too much.

“You alright?” Bronn asked, and Jaime realized that Bronn had caught him staring.  “Not too late. This little lady was just telling me how handsome she thinks you are.”

The barmaid blushed and looked down.

“I wouldn’t want to break up a happy couple,” Jaime drawled then stood up.  “I think I am heading to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hope your a heavy sleeper,” Bronn said with a grin, implying that he would be fucking the barmaid in their room later.  Then he turned his attention back to the woman, his lips grazing up her neck as he whispered something in her ear.

 

Jaime returned to his and Bronn’s room, kicked off his boots, stripped off his shirt then fed the fire a few more logs.  Between the ale and the heat of the fire, he felt warm all the way to his bones. After blowing out the candle on the table, he climbed into bed, eager to sleep like a rock.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.  He found himself tossing and turning in bed, readjusting the pillow, flipping from back to stomach and then back again.  He needed to fall asleep before Bronn returned with his girl. That was the last thing he wanted to listen to, Bronn rutting between her thighs.  Finally, after nearly an hour, Jaime managed to fall asleep.

 

Footsteps on floorboards woke him back up.  It was pitch black in the room, save for a sliver of moonlight that cut through the window and cast a ghostly glow across Bronn’s bed.  He’d returned with his girl, and though Jaime could tell they were trying to be quiet, they managed to trip over Bronn’s travel bag on the way to his bed.  Jaime remained still, his eye barely cracked open.

“I’m sorry,” the girl whispered as she crept into Bronn’s bed.

“S’alright,” Bronn replied after glancing into the dark corner where Jaime lay, “He’s asleep.”  Then Bronn crawled up the bed to loom over her. She raised her hands to his face and ran them along his cheeks then around the back of his neck to pull him down to her.  Their lips met in a practiced rhythm, eager yet gentle.

Jaime found himself staring.  Something in his chest clenched.  Was it memories of Cersei coming back to haunt him yet again?  He hadn’t dreamed of her for some time, but she was still in there.

The barmaid whimpered as Bronn undid the laces of her bodice the leaned back and cupped her full breasts in his hands.  She arched up into him, and her hips ground up against his, craving contact. Bronn toyed with her nipples, pinching them then caressing her until she was moaning.

Would Brienne make that noise if he ever got a chance to touch her that way?  Jaime’s cock twitched beneath the blankets and he slid his left hand across his belly, low, grazing the laces of his breeches.  He tried to imagine what it would be like to fuck her. He’d wanted to for some time. He loved her. But he wasn’t sure if it was ever going to happen.  Hells, he might never see her again.

Bronn was kissing the barmaid again, plunging his tongue into her mouth as he pushed his hips into her.  One hand was on her breast still and the other was around her waist so he could pull her against him. Jaime’s breathing quickened and his cock was rock hard now.  Probably much like Bronn’s. Fuck, he either needed to stop watching or he was going to have to jack off, and somehow his hand had already found its way around his own cock so he supposed he had his answer.  He stroked himself, and it wasn’t going to take much.

Bronn had the barmaid’s skirts pushed up and her smallclothes were laying on the floor next to the bed.  He leaned back and undid the laces of his breeches and his cock sprang out, hard and erect and  _ big. _  Jaime nearly let out a strangled moan at the sight, but he squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath for a moment, his whole body taut.

The barmaid let out a soft sigh as Bronn sank into her, then they were kissing again as Bronn’s hips pumped against her, setting a rhythm that Jaime’s hand could match.  The girl was touching herself now and her legs were wrapped around Bronn, pulling him deeper with each stroke. Jaime could hear Bronn grunting now and his face was strained as he pounded into her.  He was close, Jaime could tell, and then the barmaid cried out as she bucked against him, finding her release. Bronn kept going, and Jaime had to close his eyes and roll away as his balls tightened and he muffled his own moan into his pillow.  He’d spilled on his own hand beneath the blankets.

Sated and sleepy, Jaime tucked himself back into his pants and let his body sink into the mattress.  Bronn must have finished because he was already helping his woman out of their room. She would sleep in her own bed tonight.  Jaime heard the door open and Bronn whisper “Night, love,” to her. They kisses and then he closed the door behind her and crept back into his bed.

After that, Jaime slept like a baby, and instead of being plagued by his usual strange dreams of the walking dead, or Cersei, or of an undead Brienne with icy blue eyes, he dreamed of Bronn.  And it was a whole different variety of strange.


End file.
